


For That Special Someone

by LuxInvictus



Series: Supernatural Advent Calendar Challenge 2017 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, clueless angels are clueless, inappropriate holiday gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 22:41:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12969951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxInvictus/pseuds/LuxInvictus
Summary: The angels get their humans very…interesting gifts.





	For That Special Someone

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: inappropriate holiday gifts; rock, paper, scissors

-.-.-.-.-

Dean glares at Sam.

Sam glares at Dean.

Dean cracks his knuckles and juts out his jaw. “You ready, bitch?”

In response, Sam rolls his shoulders and twists the kinks out of his neck. “Ready, jerk.”

“On three?”

Sam gives a curt nod.

“One…two…three!”

They pound their fists into their palms and throw a sign. With an evil cackle that would make Lucifer himself proud, Sam bashes his rock on top of Dean’s scissors. “That’s one-zero, me,” he says, bouncing his eyebrows and grinning.

Dean’s brow furrows and he clenches his jaw so hard the tendons in his neck jut out. “This ain’t over yet.”

As the Winchesters gear up for round two, Castiel scoots closer on the sofa next to Lucifer himself, who’s wearing an ugly green sweater covered in pictures of gamboling orange kittens and puffing up with pride at Sam’s boy king cackle. The Santa hat perched jauntily on his head almost falls off at the jostling movements from the other angel, but he catches it and adjusts it before it does.

“One…two…three!”

“What is this arcane ritual?” Castiel whispers loudly into Lucifer’s ear as Sam points and laughs and Dean stomps his foot and angrily demands the best three out of five.

Lucifer, who’s munching on a bowl of popcorn, has the courtesy to swallow his mouthful before answering. “It’s how humans decide important things.” Grabbing another large handful, he stuffs his mouth full. _Cruncha-cruncha-crunch._ Castiel scrunches up his nose at the distasteful lack of manners. Catching that thought on angel radio, Lucifer grunts and offers the bowl to Castiel, who declines on the basis that butter flavored molecules are still molecules.

“One…two…three!”

Dean claps and aims a gun-shaped hand at Sam. “Oooh! Take that, bitch!”

Sam snorts and rolls his eyes. “Dude. There’s two more rounds. Or one, if I win the next one.”

“Yeah, dream on.”

Sam just smirks and raises his fist.

Castiel squints at the humans. “Humans decide important matters by chanting numbers and making odd hand gestures?” Still chewing, Lucifer makes a broad, expansive gesture at Sam and Dean as if saying, see for yourself. Blinking, Castiel tilts his head to the side and absently scratches at the stubble on his chin as the Winchesters start the next countdown. “It seems very inefficient.”

Before Lucifer can respond, Sam crows in victory and smacks his open hand on top of Dean’s fist. Dean swears and kicks at the ground, almost upsetting the sorry excuse of a Christmas tree they managed to find in the nearby woods. It’s more of a Christmas bush than anything, but it’s got lights blinking and twinkling from the flimsy little branches and red and green ball glass ball things and an angel perched on top, so in Dean’s own words, “whatever. It works.”

“C’mon, man. How do you always win?” Dean grouses as he sits down and slides Sam’s small pile of presents to him from under the tree. Sam gleefully rubs his hands together and gathers them to himself, eager to see what’s inside.

“I’ve told you, Dean. You’ve got a tell,” he says as he tears blue paper covered in smiling snowmen off a box and opens it to reveal a new hunting knife from Mom.

“It’s friggin’ rock paper scissors. How do I have a tell?”

Sam shrugs as he carefully sets the knife aside and grabs his present from Dean, which is wrapped in what looks like brown paper grocery bags covered in twine with his name scrawled on the top in Sharpie. “You just do,” he says, then tosses his brother a bitch face as he pulls out a wadded up pair of bright red flannel pajamas with happy cartoon moose frolicking on them. “Really, Dean?”

Dean returns Sam’s bitch face with a shit-eating green. “Merry Christmas, Sammy. And hey, maybe you’ll even get to wear ‘em a couple days a week,” he adds with a lascivious wink. Sam’s face turns the color of the pajamas. Chuckling in a self-satisfied sort of way, Dean reaches over and yanks the bowl of popcorn off of Lucifer’s lap, ignoring the archangel’s indignant squawk.

“That was mine!”

“Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it?”

While Lucifer and Dean fight over the popcorn, Castiel leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Please open the present from me next, Sam,” he says loudly over the sounds of World War III. A few pieces of popcorn land in his hair, but Castiel absently brushes them onto the couch.

Between the jumbled mess of paper and tape that looks like a kindergartner’s art project and the rectangular box with the perfectly seamless wrapping paper and perfectly placed ribbons and perfectly arranged bows, Sam instantly knows which of the last two presents is from Castiel. Tugging the art project in front of him, Sam puts his chiseled upper body to work tearing through the mass of paper and tape to find —

“Dude, is that lube?” Dean, who’s struggling to escape a chokehold from Lucifer, barks out a laugh.

Sam clears his throat a few times and stares down at the bottle of Anal Ease. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah it is.” He coughs and then fixes his gaze firmly on Castiel’s chin. “Uh, thanks man.”

Castiel beams back at him. Sam kind of wants to melt into the floor.

Unlatching his arm from around Dean’s neck, Lucifer shoves him aside (along with the popcorn bowl, though most of the popcorn is on the floor by now) and perches on the very edge of the couch, eyes shiny and bright. “Now mine!” he says. “Best for last!”

Castiel nods. “We bought them to coordinate.”

Sam is kind of scared to open Lucifer’s present. At this point he’d almost rather face a hoard of murderous clowns.

Almost.

Avoiding eye contact with the other three, he meticulously unsticks each bow from the top of the box, carefully slices each ribbon with his pocket knife, and then peels off the paper. Cold chills race down his spine as he pulls out —

Dean is rolling around on the floor now, tears streaming down his face as Sam holds up a package of blue silicone anal beads. Except the beads are shaped like little hearts.

“I remember you said you wanted to experiment,” Lucifer says, all bubbles and joy, wide eyes aglow and hands clasped in front of his chest.

Sam doesn’t have the heart to berate him for choosing Christmas morning to remember an off-handed off-color comment. “Uh. Thanks, babe.”

The smile on Lucifer’s face is worth the embarrassment. “They’re water safe too,” he adds helpfully above Dean’s howls of laughter.

“Dude!” he says, swiping away the tears streaming down his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Where the hell did you two go shopping?”

“A place called Extreme Fun Zone,” Castiel says.

Now it’s Sam’s turn to snicker as all the color drains from Dean’s face. Bypassing the presents from Mary and Sam, he lunges at the other two and tears them open in record time.

Seconds later he’s holding up a sexy, lacy black negligee and a pair of silky apple green thong panties.

“But Dean,” Cas says as he tries to coax the eldest Winchester out of the sobbing little ball he’s rolled himself into, “the sign on the rack said ‘for that special someone.’ You are my special someone.”

Sam has never laughed so hard in his life.

-.-.-.-.-

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are fabulous! :)
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @this-darkness-light for more Supernatural stuff and tons of Mark Pellegrino spam. <3


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